


The Things You Remember

by builder_of_worlds



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Body Image, Character Death, Child Abuse, Coming In Pants, Daddy Issues, Demisexual Character, Demon Powers, Demon Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't worry he's eighteen, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fantasy Racism, First Kiss, First Time, Found Family, Gay Character, High Fantasy, Homicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Learning Anti-racism, Learning how to deal with trauma, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Work, Sleeping with strangers, The Sex tm, Thieves Guild, Threats of Violence, Wet Dream, bathhouse shenanigans, knifeplay if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/builder_of_worlds/pseuds/builder_of_worlds
Summary: Eldrin never expected to be normal. Only child and heir to the estate of the Elven House Argentarius, he was raised to believe certain things, and to live his life in accordance with the social duties of his position. That...didn't go as planned.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a backstory for a D&D character I haven't played in years, but it turned into much more. This has gotten me through a lot, and if these characters make a single person feel less alone, then they've done their job.

I have nothing to apologize for. I'm sure that you won't believe me, but it's true. I did what I needed to do. Was it the RIGHT thing? I guess it depends on your perspective. I thought it was, at the time. Now, I'm not so sure. Okay, I'm not even convincing myself at this point. 

History, as my tutors always told me as a child, is written by the winners. The problem with that is that the winners don't talk about any of the things that might make them look bad. In the aftermath of what I guess was our victory, I have to wonder if those winners even believe what they end up saying. 

It's not what the history books will say that's been keeping me up at night, though. It's the things they won't say, because they aren't "important enough," or they don't fit the narrative. History won't know who we are, or why we were there, each of us, as individuals. They won't know that the morning of the incursion was the first day that I was sober since my best friend died. They probably won't even know her, or her name, or that it was my fault, my own stupidity and nothing to do with the coup that caused her death. They won't know how long it took to assemble and train an entire army, or how long it took us to figure out what in the hells we were even fighting for, and what we would do after the fact, if we lived to see it.

I can only tell you what I know of our history, or, perhaps more accurately, my history, and memory is a tricky thing. I'm not egotistical enough to believe that I can be unbiased, and believe me when I say that I have many, many regrets. It's not a pretty story, but here's what I've got, because I've never told it, never all of it. 


	2. Childhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't get to choose where you come from, only where you go from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the tags; this was never going to be a pretty story.

I was born to a wealthy family. The House of Argentarius was, and likely still is, a major creator and seller of silver products. My family controlled the entire process of silver production, from the mining of the ore, to the market prices of the products. I was the eldest and only son of the House, and I was never meant to learn the ways of the forge, but to be an aristocrat, and, as such, a member of a carefully formed bureaucracy that kept the prices high, the pay low, the wealthy rich, and the poor down.

I'm ashamed to admit that as a child, I saw absolutely nothing wrong with that system, and would have done just about anything to please my father, Dorian. Being a human, and having married into the elven Argentarius family (taking my mother's surname in their nuptials), was incredibly (one might even say obsessively) dedicated to maintaining the family's place in the hierarchy. I, being the strong-willed, unruly child that I was, was never the son he felt that he deserved. It's possible that he was right, but what do I know of that type of judgement?

So I grew up on the Argentarius Estate, with a rather distant father, and a mother, Arlayna, who was kind and strong, and taught me to have pride in my elven heritage. She taught me to speak and read both Elvish and Common, and hired me tutors in language and history and theology and all sorts of rich little brat subjects that nobody cares about outside of an ivory tower. My father, I believe, resented a lot of that, because while it was well within his means at that point to receive a similar education, he was a proud man, and did not like to admit that his upbringing had only provided him enough of an education to, with great effort, hide the fact that he was functionally illiterate, and could only read very, very slowly, by sounding out words, and only in Common. 

I was ten when I met Aithlin. I had been going a bit stir-crazy from my studies; my new tutor was a very old elf, Master Edlan Tassarion. He was not only old enough to show his age (which takes quite a long time for elves, in case you were wondering), but was also old enough that he had been there for many of the historical events that he was teaching me. At ten years old, there wasn't a soul in the world who could have made me give a damn about the great treaties and battles, the good rulers and the bad, the history of the world and my place in it because of my forefathers. Master Tassarion tried his best, but I was young and bored, and it was far easier than it should have been to slip past the nearsighted, robed old man and make my way to the stables, waiting like the spoiled, rich child that I was for a servant to tack up my horse for me so that I could go out riding, shooting, and generally raising hell in all the ways that a little boy could. 

Since then, I have wondered if those lessons would have been of use in the Rebellion, had I ever bothered to pay attention. 

When I returned that evening, it was just after dark and the chill of night was beginning to creep in, the early Spring warmth not quite stretching into the evening. Gideon, the stable keeper, was there, and welcomed me back with a quick smile, taking my horse and leading him back to his stall to be untacked, cleaned, and fed. 

I was kicking bits of hay around the stable floor, not quite ready to go back and deal with the lecture I was sure to get from my tutor, and the switching I would get if my father was informed that I had been skipping my lessons. As I was stalling, however, I looked up and was met with a pair of eyes, around my eye level, deep brown and attached to the face of a human boy not much older than myself. He had dark hair, tawny skin, a smattering of freckles across his nose, and the most intense, striking eyes I had ever seen. I swore I could feel my heart skip a beat.

"Who are you?"

"Aithlin."

I looked at him quizzically. "Should that name mean something to me?"

He kept a straight face, but he was blushing, clearly insulted, but was trying to pretend he wasn't. "I'm Gideon's boy."

I nodded, looking at him with that in mind, the resemblance was clear. "What are you doing here, boy?"

He stopped trying to hide the fact that he was insulted. "What are YOU doing here, rich boy? Shouldn't the stables be too dirty, too base for you to grace us with your presence, little lord?"

I found myself spluttering, entirely unused to being spoken to in such a way, especially by a SERVANT. "How...how dare you? Do you know who I am? I'm Lord Eldrin Argentarius, first of my name and heir to all that you call home! One day, I'm going to be the Lord of this estate, and then you'll be...I'll...I'll..." I couldn't think of a threat that seemed fitting for his impertinent words. 

"You'll what? Have me thrown out? I'm learning to saddle horses and shovel shit, it's not as though you can really demote me further."

He was right, but I was still deeply affronted, and stormed out of the stables to face my punishment for playing hooky. 

The next time we met was two months later. I had just turned eleven, and was coming back from my second-ever archery lesson with Eslem Stillstrike, the half-orc captain of the guard. They were, as was the case with most people in those days, irritated with me, and it was with a heavy sigh that they dismounted their horse and began leading it towards the stables. "You made good progress today, Master Eldrin. Please practice for next week, and refrain from doing so inside your home. Your father takes enough issue with me as it is." 

I rolled my eyes and nodded sullenly; my father ruined everything fun.

I (quite rudely, I might add) rode my horse all the way into the stables, (something that I certainly knew better than to do) and was met once again by Gideon and his brown-eyed boy. Gideon let out a sigh that almost matched Eslem's, and his smile was fondly exasperated. "Master Eldrin, how many times must I remind you not to ride Quicksilver into the stables? You'll get hurt one of these days."

"I haven't yet," I replied. "Perhaps I'm more capable than you give me credit for."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Money doesn't make you invincible," he muttered under his breath. 

Unfortunately for him, Gideon also heard, and backhanded him hard across the face, closed fist. "You must learn to respect your betters, boy," he hissed at his son before turning to me. "Please forgive Aithlin, Master Eldrin, he is still learning to THINK before he speaks."

I nodded to Gideon, sliding off my horse and handing him the reins, trying not to show my surprise at his casual violence. He walked off to deal with Quicksilver, and I was left standing opposite Aithlin, who was staring at the ground, blushing to the tips of his ears and clearly trying not to cry. "I'm sorry Master Eldrin," he whispered, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him, still dumbfounded, and watched as a drop of blood fell to the floor. He startled violently when I reached out and touched his arm. "Are you alright?"

Aithlin was still trying to put on a brave face, even as he looked up and I could see the blood running heavily from his nose. "Yeah. Of course." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "It's nothing."

I nodded, but I could see his lower lip trembling, and all he had really managed was to smear blood across more of his face. I knew I shouldn't feel anything but perhaps pity for him, but I found that I wanted to help him, and was still shocked that Gideon would do such a thing. I had never been hit like that, never seen anyone be hit like that. The worst I ever got was a switching from my father for talking back or skipping my lessons, and even then, he often delegated the task to someone else, as though disciplining his own son was beneath him. Without stopping to question the impulse, I offered Aithlin my hand. "Come on."

Aithlin looked apprehensive, but after a moment he made up his mind, taking my hand and following. 

We went to the courtyard behind the kitchens, scaling the stone wall and making our way to my favorite respite. "Wait here," I told him, sitting him down on a bench in the most sheltered corner of the courtyard. 

Sneaking in the servants' entrance, I managed to steal a rag, which I wetted in the well before returning to Aithlin. He had mostly stopped bleeding by then, and I pretended not to see the angry tears that he kept brushing away as I knelt in front of him and gently started wiping the dried blood off his face. 

"Why did he do that?" I asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Aithlin just shrugged, not meeting my eyes. 

The more blood I removed, the more bruising I saw on his face. From what I knew about medicine (which wasn't a lot), it seemed like his nose might have been broken. Not badly, but enough to mar what I was beginning to realize was a very pretty face. 

I was quiet for another minute. "Does he always do that when he's angry?"

Aithlin looked up in surprise, his face an open book for just a moment, with surprise and anger and hurt and loneliness written all over it before he closed off again. When he spoke, his voice was unexpectedly soft. "Only since my mom died."

It was my turn to look away. Had that been far too intrusive a question to ask? I had never been very good at being polite, bit he looked sad, and I hated the though that I might be the cause. I wiped the last bit of blood off of his face, and then stared down at his hands, moving on to clean them next. "I'm sorry. About your mom. And for causing that kind of trouble for you." I knew that I'd been an insufferable brat, and what he'd said about me wasn't at all unfair. 

He didn't respond immediately, and I looked up at him. Silent tears were streaming down his face, and he looked so sad, so broken, I just wanted to hug him. The instinct startled me. Instead, I sat next to him on the bench, taking his hand to wipe the last of the blood from his palm. 

At last, he turned on me. "Why are you being nice to me?" he demanded. 

"I...I don't know," I answered honestly. "I didn't like seeing you hurt and sad and I wanted to make you feel better."

He looked down, and I realized that I still had his upturned palm cupped in my own. I froze, waiting for him to pull away, but he didn't. My heart was in my throat; I had no idea what to do with touch, especially from this person I barely knew. He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back against the cool stones of the wall behind us. The pause before he spoke again was so long that I almost thought he had fallen asleep. 

"Is it lonely in the keep, Master Argentarius?"

"Eldrin. I...Just Eldrin."

"Alright then." For the first time, the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "Is it lonely in the keep, Eldrin?"

"Yes."

Aithlin sighed. "Oh. I thought it was just that way on the outside."

And just like that, we were friends. Best friends, even. I'd never had a friend before, much less one my own age. and it was exhilarating and terrifying and something I had never even thought to wish for. Any time we could escape, we would. I became quite adept at sneaking out to meet Aithlin when I ought to have been studying, or even sleeping, and I found myself in the stable far more than was strictly necessary, and making excuses to take him out of it as much as I could. 

Months turned into years, and we began to grow up. Aithlin grew tall before I did, at the age of thirteen, and teased me mercilessly, calling me "Little Lord," and any number of other humiliating nicknames, until six months later, when I finally hit my growth spurt and ended up a full two inches taller than him. All that time, we talked about anything and everything, except for his parents. He didn't speak of his mother, and deflected any conversation that might have led to discussion of the bruises that littered his arms, his torso, and occasionally his face. I stopped bringing it up, and never mentioned to anyone in the keep the way that Gideon had begun to stagger through his work by the end of the day, nor the liquor I could always smell on his breath when he came to take Quicksilver. 

We got older, but the games we played stayed nearly the same; swimming, racing, throwing rocks at things not meant to be hit with rocks, playing at war with sticks...We were growing up, but remained just as adept at getting into trouble. 

We were barely fourteen when dusk found us lying in a meadow in the middle of the woods, staring through the scattering of leaves at the changing summer sunset colors. I was complaining, as I often did, about my parents, or rather, my father, and his expectations of me. Specifically that day, it was about marriage. 

"He keeps inviting all these young ladies to court, and I have to be all dressed up and meet them. They're all so boring, and they don't want to be there either, and then I have to dance with them and charm them or whatever. Father says that I have to marry a noblewoman, and soon, so that I can be sure to produce an heir and maintain the family name and..." I trailed off, grimacing. "I don't want to be a lord," I muttered. 

Aithlin snorted, looking at me without sitting up. “Poor little rich boy.” I could hear his eye roll without even looking at him. “Quit pouting.” 

“I’m not pouting,” I pouted. 

He grinned at me, and I shoved his shoulder. He just smiled and pushed me back, and we lay in silence for a while.

The sky was fading from purple to navy when I finally spoke again. “Would you do it?” 

“Do what?” 

“Marry a noblewoman and go have lots of sex and babies with her.” 

He laughed, making a face. “This is, I’m guessing, in a world where I am not a stable boy, have lots of money, and any noble would even look at me twice?”

I wanted to argue with that last part, tell him that I was a noble and couldn’t stop looking at him, but the words stuck in my throat, replaced by a quiet: “Yes.”

He was quiet for a moment, thinking hard. I knew he couldn’t see me in the gathering darkness, but my dark vision was more than strong enough to see him biting his lip and frowning, blushing from his ears to where his skin disappeared beneath his loose shirt. “No,” he replied, so softly that I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him correctly. 

“What?”

“No,” he said, a little louder this time, “I wouldn’t.”

He said nothing else, and my mind began to run wild with possible reasons that might be. I wanted to ask why, but instead, I found a truth I’d been meaning to keep secret tumbling out of my mouth. “I think I’m supposed to be attracted to them, but I’m not. They’re all beautiful and done up and the way my father and other grown-ups talk about it, I’m supposed to want to kiss them and touch them and… I don’t.” It all came out in a rush, and I could see Aithlin staring at me, squinting a little in the darkness. 

“Leave it to you, Eldrin,” he teased, but his voice was a little unsteady. “None of the ladies of any of the Houses are good enough for the great Lord Eldrin Argentarius, first of his name, heir to the Argentarius estate and fortune, future of Aleria, savior of the planet, grand Poobah of princelings… Hey!” 

I cut him off by jumping on him and pinning him. “Back up your mouth there, stable boy.” I teased back. He threw me off, and we wrestled; he was stronger than I was, but I was faster, and had learned how to fight from Eslem. The end of it had us both breathing hard, me on top of him with his wrists pinned. I could see his eyes were wide beneath me, and I couldn’t name the stir I felt in my chest, and low in my stomach. I was suddenly inexplicably nervous, but I didn’t move. 

“Aithlin?”

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Do you ever think about running away?” 

There was a long pause. “Yeah, I do.” He whispered it breathlessly, like a confession. 

I was about to speak again when he broke my hold, sat up, and kissed me.

My arms hung uselessly at my sides, and I felt a million things at once before I scrambled back off his lap, trying to make sense of it all. “What?” I brought my fingers up to touch my lips. Had Aithlin really just..? 

He lurched up to his knees, trying to reach out to me, but having to squint in the dark. “No, wait, Eldrin, stop. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” 

I found myself bracing, and then surged forward, cutting him off with another kiss. Well, trying to. I missed, slightly, and it was an awkward crash of teeth clicking together and partially kissing his chin. 

I could hear his surprised intake of breath, and feel his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me back a little and leaned back in, slower that time, just a soft press of lips to lips. Then he started to move some, and I tried to keep up. It was sloppy, and neither of us had any idea what we were doing, and then he held one of my hands, lacing our fingers together, bringing his other up to cup the back of my neck. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to choke on it, and every point of contact felt like a lightning strike and I never wanted to stop. 

When we finally had to pull apart for breath, I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was panting a little, his face flushed and lips bruised from kissing, and he was beautiful. 

“No,” Aithlin repeated, “I could never marry a noblewoman.”

* * *

The next two years passed in a blur of color and emotion. It was all lessons, and learning how to be an aristocrat, and to hunt in the backwards, useless way that rich people do, as well as countless balls and banquets and all kinds of other pointless social events to try and find me a bride. All of these were interspersed with frequent, desperately secretive rendezvous with Aithlin, sometimes in the woods, sometimes the stables, sometimes the courtyards, and, on a few occasions, in my room in the keep. I got even better at sneaking out than I had been to begin with, until even the most perceptive of the guards couldn’t have caught me, even if they wanted to. These meetings were all frantic making out and groping, as teenagers are apt to do, trying to cram as much physical closeness into our brief moments as possible. 

There was one such night when we were 16. It was late, and we were pressed together, sleepy and sated, in my bed, with his head on my chest, wrapped around each other. My fingers were stroking through his curls, just savoring the feeling of getting to touch him. He leaned into the touch, and then nuzzled into my chest again. “Mmm… love you, Eldrin.” he mumbled sleepily.

My hand paused in his hair, and I think I stopped breathing. We had never said that before. After a moment, he looked up at me. “Y’alright? Your heart’s going a mile a minute.” 

I swallowed, nodding, and let my hand continue its path through his hair. “Yeah. I.. I love you too.”

There were even more arguments with my father after that night, particularly on the subject of marriage. 

“You need to find a wife, Eldrin. The name must carry on!” 

“Father, I don’t love any of them!”

“You don’t have to love them, you just have to pick one and marry her! You’re the heir of this house, and it’s about time you started acting like it!” 

“Ah, yes, marriage, the person you’re forced to spend the rest of your life with! That has nothing to do with love, does it? It’s all about money, and politics, and names for you, isn’t it? You aren’t even of this house! Mother is the Lady of House Argentarius, and she doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about my marriage as you do. Did you love her when you married, or was it all about the money for you?”

It was a low blow, and I knew I had earned it before his hand even landed on my face. He’d used the back of his hand, and, looking later, there was a small cut where the edge of his signet ring caught on my cheekbone. Poetic, perhaps, the house crest emblazoned on my face even more starkly than the red mark of the impact on my pale skin. “Why don’t you ask the Lady of the House what she thinks then, boy,” he muttered before stalking off. 

After that particular argument, I did seek out my mother, looking for comfort, and, more realistically, some sort of vindication. I found her in her chambers, sitting at her desk and looking over some document or other that looked important. She placed it away and looked up at me expectantly as I entered. 

Her eyes were unwavering and steely as I related the details of the argument, and I didn’t even try to lie to her about what had happened. 

“That was cruel,” she finally said when I had finished, regarding me keenly.

“Yes, Mother. I know. I’m sorry.” I hung my head. I knew that I should be ashamed of what I had said simply on the basis that it had been deeply disrespectful and probably hurtful to my father, but honestly, I was more ashamed of disappointing my mother. 

She took my chin in her hand and examined my bruised face. “You mustn’t be so disrespectful of your father, Eldrin, but it does seem that he is quick to forget. If I had listened to what my father told me about marriage, I would have been married to an elven lord, and your father, and by extension, you, would not be here.”  
I looked up at her in surprise. 

There was a wry smile on her face as she continued. “I know it may not seem like it right now, but your father is not a stupid man, Eldrin. He wouldn’t have sent you here if he didn’t want you to know what I think, and I know he knows what that is, because I’ve told him over and over.”

“Mother?”

“Have I ever told you how your father and I met?” She had dropped the Lady Argentarius façade, and was just my mother at that moment. It wasn’t a huge difference, if I’m honest; my family was never particularly warm and cuddly, but it was a bit softer than her public persona. 

I stared at her silently, and then shook my head. That was nowhere near how I had expected the conversation to go. 

She smiled again, but this time it was a small, secret smile, perhaps a bit wistful, and she was quiet for a moment before continuing. “Your grandmother died when I was young. There was another child, one after me, but my mother’s pregnancy was complicated, and the baby died before he was born. My mother never recovered from that loss, and two years later, took her own life.”

I stared at her. “You never told me that.”

“You never asked.” She shrugged, giving me a half smile before continuing. “Like me, my mother was the Lady of House Argentarius, and my father was a noble who married in: the third son of House Keylar. As such, after my mother passed away, my father became the steward of the House until I came of age.”

I nodded. This was all information I had grown up being told, and that my mother had told me stories upon stories about. I was descended from two noble elven houses, and was to be proud of that. 

“Because of his duties as the steward, as well as his grief at the loss of my mother, my father was very distant much of the time, and honestly had no idea how to raise a young girl. And so he hired me tutors, and ladies to serve me, and an etiquette mistress to instruct me in the ways and duties of a lady of a noble house. It was something I found useful, but I was lonely. There was nobody my own age, and the only people who I could speak to were those in the keep.

I was almost of age when my father took an interest in me again. That interest was almost exclusively one which revolved around me finding a worthy husband so that I could take my place as the Lady of the House. I did not need a husband to assume that position, but he found it unsettling that I was unconcerned with the future of the house, or the potential heirs that needed to be produced. Believe it or not, I wasn’t much interested in motherhood when I was young.” 

I was expecting a smile in my direction, but her eyes were distant as she continued. 

“Motherhood is what took my own mother away from me, and I couldn’t imagine doing that to another child, or to a husband. My mother broke after she lost the child, and I still didn’t understand why she had left the child she had for the one that she had lost. I had watched my father recede into himself when we lost her, and I wasn’t sure if I could ever go through with something like that, make someone else go through that because of me. I was young, and I didn’t know what motherhood does to a person.” She looked at me, serious, yet tender. “I didn’t know yet what it was like to be willing to give anything for another person. I didn’t know that it was possible to love someone so much that you no longer matter.” 

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t, I just waited for her to continue. 

“Nonetheless, there were events to try and find me a husband. Young lord after young lord came to see me, and there were banquets, and balls, and lavish parties, both here and hosted by other families. My father was certain that I would eventually find a good match, and want to marry. Would you like to know a secret, though?” She leaned in conspiratorially, and I nodded.

“All of them were absolutely dreadful.” She laughed, and it was a clear, beautiful sound that I hadn’t heard in a long time. “All of these stuck up little lords who were doing their clumsy best to woo me, and hadn’t a clue what they were doing, nor a sincere bone in their bodies. I hated them all.”

“So what did you do?” I was riveted at this point. Perhaps what I was feeling wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

She was grinning. “The closest thing I had to a friend was one of the servants, Kenna. She was around my age, and she worked in the kitchens. She would help me to sneak out, and I would go into the town, dressed in common clothes. Of course nobody recognized me; I so rarely left the keep, no one had any reason to suspect that I was really the heir to the House. 

One evening, I was in the town, and I found this little tavern called the Morning Glory. The name made me laugh, so I went in to get a drink. I found myself chatting with the barkeep, this young human man. He was kind, and handsome, and I went back to that place, over and over again, until he finally got brave.

We saw each other in secret for a while, and when he said that he loved me, and would marry me if I would have him, I had to finally admit who I was. He was shocked, and apologetic, and for some reason thought that me telling him that meant that I was saying no. He has always had the hardest time seeing what’s right in front of him. 

And so we went to my father; the heiress of the House and the young barkeep, dressed in his best clothes, and he asked my father for his blessing to marry me. My father laughed in his face.” 

I thought of my grandfather; he had always been a proud man, but had never struck me as quite so cruel as all that. My surprise must have shown on my face, because she laughed again. 

“It was a long argument, that one. Your father was sent out into a different chamber while I told my father all of the things that he thought I was too young to really mean. I told my father that I loved him, that there was no reason I shouldn’t marry him. 

He told me that I was too young to know love, and that I would never be happy with a human. He told me that I would spend lifetimes alone after he was gone, and that I had no idea what that loneliness was. He was right in that, I think. I see your father age, even now, and I know that his lifetime is but a small part of mine. But I also knew that I loved him, and it was something that I was willing to fight for. 

My father gave in only after I threatened to renounce the family name and elope, or stay and mother a bastard, just to shame the name of House Argentarius. I told him that I would rather one lifetime with Dorian than centuries with another. And so we were married. I have never regretted the choice that I made, not once. I love him, and I always will. 

I can see that you’re struggling, Eldrin, and know that it is your duty as a Lord to produce an heir. You have many duties to your station, and to your people. But you also need to be able to live with yourself. You’re so young, my son. Make sure that you want what you think you do, and don’t throw away what you have on a passing folly. But if you know? Well, you know. Think about it, my love. It isn’t a decision that you should rush into.” 

My head was spinning, and I had no idea what to say. I wanted to tell her, but then I remembered what she said about an heir, and… “Yes, Mother.” I replied. 

She rested her hand on my cheek for a moment, looking at me with understanding and fondness. “I want you to be happy.” She moved back towards her desk, fitting the mask of the Lady of the House firmly back into place. “Now run along, I have work to get done.” 

I stood to leave, and just as I got to the door, she called after me. “Eldrin?” 

“Mother?”

“Talk to your father. Maybe not tonight, but soon. Things will only get worse if you don’t.”

I left the room feeling a little bit vindicated, a little bit hopeful, and a little bit even more terrified than I had been to begin with.

I brought Aithlin into my bed that night, and he held me, though even I didn’t know why I was crying. I told him about how I had spoken to my mother, and what she had said. He just ran his fingers through my hair, telling me that it would be alright. 

I realized that one day, far sooner than I, Aithlin would die. That knowledge hit me harder than it should have, or at least it was something that I should have realized before that point, and I clung to him even more tightly. 

Finally, I pulled myself together, though I was nearly frantic in my need to have him close, and kissed him soundly, trying to hold onto the only person who I had ever loved, maybe the only one I ever would. 

That was the night that we both lost our virginity. It hadn’t seemed important before then, but I needed to give him that part of myself, wanted him to have the knowledge that I wanted him to have me, all of me, forever. I think he knew, and he felt the same way.

Curled together afterwards, sweaty and exhausted and so, so happy, I realized that I had made my decision long ago. I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you, Aithlin.” 

He looked up at me from where his head was pillowed on my chest. “I love you too.” 

I held him tighter. “I… I want to marry you.” 

His eyes were wide as he met my gaze. “But… What about an heir? What about… well, everything? They’ll never let us.” 

“Then we’ll run away.”

“Eldrin…”

“Aithlin. I don’t care. I want to spend my life with you.” I averted my eyes, suddenly shy.

“That is, if you’ll have me.” 

He was trying to look at me like I was crazy, but I could see that his eyes were shining with unshed tears. Instead of answering, he just pulled me down to kiss him. It was sweet, and intense, and I was once again struck by the perfection of this human that I wanted so badly to call my own. “You idiot, of course I’ll have you. I’d have married you from the first day you held my hand.”

“But that was…”

“When we were children, I know.” 

We fell asleep wrapped around each other, naked and together and so sure of what our lives were going to be. My last thought before I drifted off was “I love this man, and I will for the rest of my life.” 

My father slamming my door open in the morning, already in a rage, startled us both awake. Usually we got up early enough that I got to my lessons on time and Aithlin got out of the keep and nobody noticed, but it had been a late night and we were still asleep and… 

“Eldrin! Why in Angels’ names weren’t you at your lesson with Eslem this mo…” He caught sight of Aithlin and stopped dead. All three of us were frozen in shock, a blanket of silence settling over the room. 

It was my father that broke the spell. “You’re… Gideon’s boy.”

A wide-eyed Aithlin just nodded. 

My father nodded back. “Right. I’m sure that you have duties to attend to. Eldrin, make yourself decent, I need to talk to you.” And with that, he turned and left, shutting the door behind him. 

Aithlin was up in an instant, panicked and frantically casting about for his discarded clothes. 

I also stood up, but was frozen in shock. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck, Eldrin! What are we going to do?”

One breath, two. I suddenly found myself strangely calm about the whole situation. I picked up my underclothes from the floor and put them on. “The same thing we were going to do before.This doesn’t change anything. Aithlin. Aithlin, look at me.” 

He paused halfway through putting on his pants, and when he finally met my eyes, I could see that he was crying. 

“Oh, love.” I went to him, holding him tightly. “This doesn’t change anything. I love you, more than I thought I could love anyone, and I’m ready to put anything on the line to be with you. Maybe this wasn’t the way I wanted him to find out, but we’ll be okay. It’s okay.” 

He pulled back to look at me, and the tears running down his face were breaking my heart, reminding me of the first time we had really been together. “I… I don’t want to lose you.” 

He was quietly sobbing now, and I cupped his face in my hands, placing my forehead against his for a moment before kissing the top of his head and pulling him back against my chest. “I promise you, you won’t lose me. Aithlin, I love you. I love you so much, and they have to see that, they will see that. I want to spend my life with you, and if that isn’t alright with them, we’ll run away. We’ll run away, and we won’t come back, and we’ll start a life somewhere that they’ll never find us. I promise I’m not going anywhere, not without you. Fuck, you’re the love of my life. There is nothing that could make me let go of you.” I leaned down and kissed him. It was soft and there were still tears running down his face, but he kissed me back. 

“Okay.” he whispered. “Okay, I believe you.” 

“Good.” I kissed his forehead again. 

“I should go. Your father was right, I do have chores I need to see to.”

“Maybe not for long.” I smiled at him and wiped the tears from his face. 

He pulled away and resumed putting on his clothes, laughing as he did, and I couldn’t help but think that it was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. “Maybe not. Anyway, go do what you need to do; come see me after. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.” 

I nodded, dressing quickly and stealing a final kiss. “I love you, Aithlin. I’ll come find you as soon as I can.” 

“I love you too, my little lord.” His tone was so fond that I could feel myself melt a little, and it took everything I had to walk out of the room. 

Facing my father was just as difficult as it had promised to be. What was harder was that my mother was also in the room, and in full Lady Argentarius mode. Just meeting my father’s eyes made my still bruised face throb. 

“Good morning, Mother. Good morning, Father.” I bowed my head slightly, thinking that it was better to be overly respectful and formal than not enough and angering them. 

My mother began, her face neutral. “Eldrin, your father tells me that he found you in bed with the stable boy. You know that you are supposed to be looking for a nice girl to marry, not having casual flings with men. What do you have to say for yourself?”

My heart sank, even as I could feel the anger rising hot in my chest. I tried to get a handle on it; yelling would only make it worse. I took a deep breath. “Mother, I understand that this looks bad, and I’m sure it wasn’t what Father was expecting when he came into my room this morning. But I can tell you, before anything else, that it isn’t just a fling. It’s not casual. I love him, and I want to marry him.”

My father had gone very red in the face. “You… that’s not an… you can’t just… You have a responsibility to this house!” he spluttered. 

“But… Father, you have to understand. Please. I love him, and… now that I know that, I know I can’t be happy with anyone else.” 

“Life can’t always be about being happy, Eldrin! You can’t just expect these things to happen! There are things that you can change, and then there are things that have to happen, regardless of what you WANT, or what will make you happy. You must produce an heir, even if I have to pick a random woman off the street for you to fuck.”

“Dorian.” My mother cut him off sharply, her eyes severe and unyielding. 

To his credit, my father at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Perhaps that was a bit far. Nonetheless, you do have a responsibility to produce an heir. Really, you do. And you know that you must be married to the mother of that child; bastards hold no sway in this world.” 

I looked to my mother, hoping that she would see some sort of sense, realize how unreasonable my father was being about everything. Her face was still impassive. 

“Please. I don’t want to leave here, but if that’s what it takes to be with him, I’ll do it. I really do love him. This isn’t just some passing fancy; I’ve loved him for years, and I’m going to keep loving him, regardless of what you think.” My throat felt tight and I kept blinking back tears. 

My mother finally answered: “My son, you can’t leave here. You have a responsibility to this place, to these people. There are duties that you cannot shirk, and you are far too young to see that yet.”

My father continued: “You have a duty to your family as well, to the bloodline…"

“FUCK THE BLOODLINE.” I shouted back. “I don’t owe anyone who can’t accept me as I am anything. I’ve never asked for this life, for this responsibility, for these duties. Mother, you told me that I needed to be able to live with myself, and if I let him go, I won’t be able to do that.” 

My father was nearly purple in the face by this point: “People will suffer if you try to abandon your future! It doesn’t matter what you ASKED for, you insolent boy. What matters is what you have; you should be grateful for the life you were given.” 

“Dorian.” My mother’s voice was soft. “Don’t you remember what it was like to be young and in love? What do you think happened when my father wished to speak to me about you?”

The tightness in my chest loosened a bit, but returned full force when she turned to me. 

“Eldrin. Believe me when I say that I want you to be happy. The love that a mother feels for her child is unparalleled in this world, and if I could bend the way of things to allow you to be with this boy, I would, my love. But life isn’t fair, and the only thing that I cannot sacrifice for you is the wellbeing of all of the people that are in our family’s care. Please understand, you cannot marry this boy. If I could change the rules, I would, but you need to marry a woman. I’m sorry. Truly I am.” 

The tears finally started to fall. “I can’t. You know that I can’t.”

Her eyes were filled with pity. “Go, now. We’ll discuss what needs to be done later. For now, I have to talk to your father.” 

I wanted to scream at her for her hypocrisy, ask her how this was any different from her own story, tell her that I wouldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. 

I had my mind made up. By now, Aithlin would be in the stables. If I went to tell him now, we could escape by nightfall, run away where nobody could stop us from being together. I changed directions and went towards the front doors of the keep, only to be stopped by Eslem. 

“I’m afraid I’m under strict orders from your father not to let you leave, Master Eldrin.” They seemed confused, but steadfast in their obedience of the order. 

“Eslem, please, I just need to go out for a moment, I’ll come back, I swear.”

“I’m sorry, Master Eldrin, I cannot. And don’t bother trying your usual tricks; we have the windows covered as well.”

I went back to my room, seething. Of course they would order the guards to keep me there. Well, my father would, anyway. If it had just been my mother, perhaps she would have at least had some shred of empathy. She surprised me; I just wished, still wish, even now, that she had understood. I began to cry again as I started to pack the things I had deemed essential for my journey; cloak, map, boots, my papers of pedigree, some coin. I wanted to pack more, but I didn’t really have much, not without having to face down my parents. We could get supplies in the next town, and be well on our way before anyone realized we were gone. 

It was well into the afternoon before I had finished making what I thought were the necessary preparations for our escape. Much of that time had been taken up writing and rewriting a note to my parents, informing them of my departure, and telling them that it had to be this way. Draft after draft had been crumpled up and thrown into the fire. I didn’t want them to think that I was just behaving impulsively; throwing a tantrum like a petulant child. I asked them to forgive me; I didn’t want to forsake my people, but I truly couldn’t live without him. 

When darkness fell, I stole out the window, my black cloak blending in as I crept silently down the wall, climbing down the side of the building to reach the ground. I headed to the stables, trying to avoid people, my hood up over my face. Reaching our usual meeting place, I didn’t see Aithlin. 

“Aithlin!” I hissed. “Are you here?” 

There was no answer, so I crept inside the stable. “Aithlin! Where are you? We have to go!” 

Again, I was met with silence. Perhaps he had gone to bed. I stealthily made my way towards his sleeping quarters, but then I stepped in a puddle and looked down in disgust. I was expecting piss, or dirty water from the horses, but instead was met with blood. 

I could feel my stomach turn, knowing what I was about to see even as I followed the track of blood. His throat was cut, eyes still open, and I immediately vomited, the world fading into slow motion as I spat on the floor and made my way over to him, lifting his lifeless body into my lap. 

He was cold. I don’t know what I had been expecting, but his body was cold, and his skin unnaturally ashy, almost grey, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at nothing. There was blood everywhere, and it was all over my hands as I ran them through his hair, rocking back and forth and silent, wanting to scream, wanting to do anything. I kept quiet, even as I realized exactly what it was that had happened. His death wasn’t some freak thing, not an accident or the work of a petty criminal who had been caught and panicked. The timing of it could only mean one thing: it was the work of an assassin’s blade. My father had ordered it. 

I held Aithlin to my chest, a macabre mockery of our last embrace that very morning. “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry. I did this to you. Fuck… I did this to you. He did this to you because of me.” I paused, still rocking back and forth with him in my lap. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” I said softly to him. “You were the love of my life. And I’m going to kill him for this. I’ll fucking kill him.” I stared into the silent darkness for a moment. “This is the part where you’d usually tell me not to do that, that it was a bad idea, that I shouldn’t even say things like that. But my love, you aren’t here to say those things anymore, and I’m going to fucking kill him for that.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead, and then a final one to his cold lips, and then closed his eyes. I gently laid him back down, and he could have been sleeping, if it weren’t for all of the blood. 

I swallowed the bile threatening to make its way back up, and went to get Quicksilver. It only took me a few minutes to tack him up; thanks to Aithlin I was no longer completely useless. I was still in silent shock as I rode the horse out of the stable and into the night, remembering the time that an exasperated Gideon had unknowingly pushed us together as I ducked under the doorframe to avoid hitting my head. After that, my brain began to go numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of the (thus far) 260 page monstrosity that I had no intention of writing. The rest of it follows Eldrin as he grows up, and if there's any interest in that, I'll put up more, but honestly, I just wanted to put this out there. Comments and constructive criticism welcome, and thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you liked it.


	3. Real Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that a lot of the tags for the first chapter were kind of horrifying, so that's my bad. This chapter is a little less dark, I guess, but hey, this is me on my self-indulgent bullshit, and there will be CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, darn it.

Three days later, I was nearly to the mountains, camping in a shallow cave at the foot of them, just outside of a tiny town where I had picked up supplies. I didn’t dare stay anywhere for long; a missing young lord would draw all kinds of attention once the word spread. I was heading West, trying to find someplace to disappear. 

I had obtained some rough commoner’s clothes, and a black woolen traveling cloak, as well as a tinderbox, some rations, and a dagger and shortsword to protect myself. I had never really camped before, not beyond nights out in the woods or meadows with Aithlin as children, which was far from the experience I found myself having. I struggled with starting fires, figuring out which direction I was going, and carrying everything I owned on my back. Everything I owned turned out to be pretty heavy.

That evening, I was sleeping with my head on my pack, having eaten some dried meat and retired into the cave, Quicksilver tied to a nearby tree. 

I was awakened by the horrific sound of my horse screaming, and jumped up just in time to see him break free and gallop off into the night. “Fuck!” I said to no one in particular, looking around for what had spooked him. Which is how I found myself face to face with a very angry grizzly bear. 

I went for the sword at my hip, but fumbled and tripped, falling prone on my back. I tried to scramble back and away from the thing, but the bear was faster, swiping at me with its giant paw and tearing four deep gashes into my flesh. My breath left me, and I tried to grab the sword and slash at the bear, but only managed a glancing blow, just barely nicking its ear.

It slashed at me again, this time going for my throat, but missed as it was hit in the neck with a crossbow bolt, and then another, and another, and I was seeing double. Looking down, I could see a lot of blood, and my body split open from left shoulder to right hip, blood flowing freely. I could see some of my organs, and as I began to fade from consciousness, I whispered: “Aithlin, I’ll be there soon,”.

Except that isn’t what happened. I woke again, feeling like I had been eviscerated (which I suppose I had been), in a dark cave. As I shifted, I groaned at the excruciating pain, though a quick glance down at my now bare chest informed me that I was no longer split open, at the very least. My wounds had been sewn up with haphazard black stitches, and the blood had been cleaned off of me. 

A rapid scan of my surroundings confirmed that I was alone, laying in what seemed to be a nest of animal pelts. I could smell the smoke from a cooking fire, probably not far off, but there was no flickering of light in the cave. I could tell I was still alive. This was far too strange and yet normal to be the Hells, and I was in far too much pain for this to be any sort of heaven. I wondered if I should get up, try to find my way, though I didn’t know where to, when I heard footsteps, and was met with the sight of an elderly female goblin.

Startled, I tried to sit up, looking for my sword. I had grown up hearing stories of goblins, of their violent ways. “ _Mind your parents and stay out of the woods or the goblins will get you and eat you, starting with your still-beating heart.”_ Had they saved my life only to eat me? My attempt to sit up was short-lived and unsuccessful as I felt the stitches pulling, and my entire torso was wracked with agonizing pain. I fell back into the furs, my chest heaving. It was just one goblin, I could take one goblin…

“Ah, child is awake.” Her Common was stilted and heavily accented, but she was speaking Common, which was surprising enough in itself. I’d always been taught that goblins were stupid and vicious. 

As she approached, I noticed that she held a bowl in one hand. She was wearing robes made of rough cloth, and her grey hair was tied out of her face in a series of intricate braids. I couldn’t find my sword. 

“Are… you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice embarrassingly shaky.

She looked surprised and began to laugh. “Kill you? Why kill you? No, helping you.” She gestured to the bowl. “For fix wounds.” She considered for a moment, still approaching me, and then pointed at it again, letting out a guttural series of syllables and looking at me expectantly. “Do not know Common word.” 

Looking into the bowl, it appeared to be a greenish-yellow paste, which she dipped her fingers in, and began spreading on my wounds. It hurt like a motherfucker for a moment, and then became a pleasant tingly numbness. I hissed in pain, and then relaxed. “Medicine?” I asked. 

“Medicine…” She considered for a moment, turning the word over and over in her mouth. “Hm… medicine for to fix wound?”

“Uh, yes.”

She nodded, and gestured at it again, still spreading it over the stitched-up lacerations on my chest. “Medicine,” she declared. She worked in silence for a minute, finishing applying the ointment, and examining the stitches, before looking up at me. “What child’s name?”

I was startled by her bluntness; there was something in her eyes, the keen way in which she regarded me that reminded me of my mother. “Uh, Eldrin. I’m Eldrin. Who are you?”

“I Slonee. Elder of clan.”

“Nice to meet you.” I said automatically. She looked perplexed by this response, so I continued: “Why have you brought me here?” 

She nodded. “Elf boy dies out there. We kill bear. Slonee and healers make elf boy alive. We make Eldrin well, elf boy help clan.”

I shifted nervously. “I.. I can’t kill people for you.”

Slonee laughed. “This clan no kill people. Hunt animals. Need things from town, town people kill goblin-folk. Need help from big folk. Elf boy to help.”

And so it was. It took nearly six months for me to regain my health; the wounds from the bear were deep and the healing took time. During that process, I learned the goblin language, and taught some of the people that I met Common, or at least a bit of it. 

I made friends, too, and they helped me to heal. One of them, Ralla, was a young priestess, and showed me magical healing for the first time. It wasn’t much, just a bit here and there to help the process along, because, as she said, some hurts needed to heal in their own time. 

It took about three months for me to be able to stand for any period of time, and while I wasn’t able to do very much lifting, or stand for very long, much less help with the hunting, I was able to stay with the clan and do basic day-to-day activities around the camp. I learned how to mend clothes, fletch arrows and crossbow bolts, help to prepare and tan the skins of the animals that the hunting parties brought back. In the first three months I was with the clan, they taught me more useful things than I had learned in my entire life at the keep. 

One day around the three and a half month mark of my stay with the goblins, Ralla was examining my wounds, checking on my progress, making sure that they were healing properly. As she nodded, concentrating on the still pink and tender scars on my torso, she asked me: “What happened to you before you came here?”. 

I looked at her, surprised, but she hadn’t even looked up from her prodding of the marks on my chest. “What do you mean?” 

“The time that you have been here, you have had such sadness in your eyes. These things take time to heal, but what are they? Where did you come from, Eldrin?”

My breath caught in my throat. I had been steadfastly not thinking about why I was there since I arrived, ignoring the ache in my chest that I’m sure was the weight of my grief. “I…” I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk about it, but then she handed me back my shirt and sat down opposite me. 

“When I was a child, I met this boy…” I related the story to her, mostly in Goblin, watched her smiling along, occasionally scowling, and when I reached the end, taking my hand in her smaller one. 

“I’ll kill him for it. I can’t… I’ll kill him for taking Aithlin from me, taking Aithlin from the world. He was just… such a good person, so much better than I could ever be, and… I’ll avenge him, or die trying.”

“I am sorry, Eldrin.” Her eyes were soft, and she stood and hugged me. 

That’s all it took for me to break, and I wept as she rocked me slowly. It was the kind of crying that I had never allowed myself to do; the kind that hurts in itself, leaves you feeling hollowed out after the fact. 

I had cried myself out and was just shaking slightly by the time Ralla released me. “I am sorry, my friend. I understand. My husband was taken from me by a group of big folk who happened upon our hunting party.” Her face hardened for a moment, and I could see her angrily blinking back tears. “When Frix was taken, I wanted revenge. I still do. It was not the right option; more of us would have died trying to avenge him, and if I had been one of them, who would have been a mother to Ulsel? Sometimes, revenge is not the right choice. But other times, Eldrin, it is. Do what you know is right. No one else can do that for you.

I am sorry for the things you have seen, my friend. Heartbreak changes you, and something like that leaves you different after.”

“Thank you, Ralla. ”

She smiled at me. “Go get some rest. You’ve worked too hard this week, your wounds still aren’t all the way healed.” 

I got the sense that she wasn’t only talking about my physical wounds, and I smiled back at her. “All right. And Ralla?” 

She paused in collecting her medicine kit. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to hear about Frix. That… It’s hard.” I placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. 

“Thank you. Now go, I won’t have you undoing all the work we’ve put into you because you won’t rest.” She shooed me off towards my sleeping quarters, and as I nestled down in my nest of pelts in the communal sleeping area, I thought about what I had said to Ralla. 

I wasn’t sure if revenge was the RIGHT choice; I know what Aithlin would have said, and the thought made me smile and shed a few silent tears. He would have said no, and then held me until I stopped shaking with anger, came down from the blind rage that had overtaken me and wouldn’t let go. But he wasn’t there, would never be there again, and that wasn’t something that I could ever forgive, and I knew that without him, that anger wasn’t going to leave me either. 

I was going to kill my father, I knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. I wasn’t going to go in half-cocked though. I wanted to do it right. I had never been a violent person before; my confusion at Gideon’s violence was what had pushed the two of us together in the first place. I understood though, after Aithlin’s death, the desire to hurt another person, to make them suffer, to want them to hurt as they died. I wasn’t sure if it was the right choice, but I did know that revenge was the only thing keeping me alive at that point. 

I stayed with the clan for two years, and they taught me their ways. I learned how to hunt for a reason, to shoot from the trees, how to hide and sneak and kill in ways that I had never imagined, or had any context for with my upbringing. From time to time, Slonee would send me to the nearby town for supplies, things like poison and cloth and cooking utensils. I was happy to do it; I liked feeling like I was actually useful to the people who had taken me in. Usually, I paid for the things that I was sent to town for, but occasionally an extra item or two would find its way into my satchel, from a sparkly brooch for Ralla, to small toys that I had seen for the children. I liked to think that my intentions were good, but it was also good practice, though for what I wasn’t sure. Having sticky fingers came naturally to me in those days, and the longer I went without getting caught, the better and more confident I got. 

I found a family during that time, but all the while, the simmering rage kept me moving forward, the need for revenge propelling me to find my own path. That family taught me things, but I wanted more, wanted to kill, wanted to break and torture the man that had taken so much of my life from me. 

I thought about the things that I wanted to do to him often, and sometimes the intensity of them scared me. I was eighteen years old, and what I wanted more than anything in the world was to commit a murder. 

After two years with the goblin clan, I went my own way, making my way West. I had heard that there was a guild of criminals over in that direction, people who could disappear into shadows, slit throats and evaporate into thin air, steal things so easily that you could watch them do it and not realize what it was they had done. I wanted to be one of them, I wanted to learn their ways, I wanted to prove that I was good enough, do what they needed me to, and use their training to do what I needed to. 

I set out on my own in the early Spring, ready for two weeks' travel on my own. The wounds from the bear had long since healed, and I was able to move and fight just as I had before, better even. The only evidence of the attack was the scarred, twisted mess that was once my chest. There were four rough slashes from my left shoulder to my right hip, uneven, raised sections of dark scar tissue on pale flesh. It didn’t feel like my body, really, and each time I was bare chested, whether chopping wood, or bathing or dressing, I expected my body as it had been, unmarked and smooth; pretty, in a spoiled little lord kind of way. The scars caught me off guard every time, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. I wondered what Aithlin would say if he had seen them, if he would have been sympathetic regarding my injury, or chastised me for putting myself in that kind of danger. I honestly didn’t know, and that thought frightened me, though I argued one side or the other each time I took off my shirt and caught sight of my chest. My time with the goblins had changed my body; perhaps it was all of the physical labor and the amount of work it was to hunt as dexterously as they did, or maybe it was just the passage of time, me turning into a man, but I had become more muscular, harder, stronger. I wondered how Aithlin would feel about that, too. Would he admire the suddenly sharp, angular planes of my body, or miss me as I had been, soft and unmarred? That thought often led into the one that invariably left me stricken and avoiding my own thoughts again: what would Aithlin have looked like, what would he act like, who would he have been if he had been allowed to grow up? 

We had thought that we were men at sixteen; all grown up and ready to face the world. We had been convinced that we could take on anything, as long as we were together, and that anyone who told us differently didn’t understand. We were also foolish, and we were just children; in reality, we were ready for each other, ready to be in love, but we knew nothing of the world. 

I had no idea how I was going to find the guild once I reached the city, nor did I have any idea if they would take me into their fold; they were just as likely to kill me as they were to train me. I didn’t care. I didn’t have much in the way of a will to live at that point, something which has continued to haunt me throughout my life. The only reason I wanted to live was to have my revenge on my father. I would avenge Aithlin, or I would die trying, or maybe, if I was very lucky, both.

I had been on my own for around a week, well on my way towards the city of Jauda, when I began having the strangest dreams. They were shadowy, disturbing things, but somehow also comforting. When I woke up the first few times, I couldn’t remember enough to really understand what had happened in them. 

The fourth time I had a dream like that, I was two days travel outside of the city. I had been seeing more and more people on the road, and had taken to the trees to sleep, as I often did in those days, sidestepping natural and human dangers alike. That night, the vague nature of the dreams that had persisted suddenly shifted, and the shadows coalesced into a dark, ethereal figure.

**_The figure wore a dark cloak that seemed to almost be made of shadow itself, and their face remained hidden. When they spoke, however, their voice was vaguely feminine, silk and velvet covered steel, comforting, seductive, but backed up by no small measure of strength._ **

**_“Hello, young one.”_ **

**_“Who are you?” I should have been scared, but for some reason, I wasn’t._ **

**_“I am someone who has seen you, and seen the hurt in your heart, and the hate born of it. The things you want? I can help you to get them.”_ **

**_I found myself equal measures intrigued and aroused. Oh, that was strange. The figure was not at all masculine. “You… you can?” I stuttered._ **

****_The figure laughed. “Of course I can. I can help you do things that you never even dreamed could be possible. Darling, the things you will do are well worth the price.”_  
“Price?”  
“What are you willing to give to make you strong enough to kill your father, Eldrin?”

**_Oh. OH. “Anything…” I breathed. I found myself drawn closer, not sure why I was suddenly so hard, but I was._ **

**_“Anything?” The figure seemed to glide closer, closing the gap between us, a soft, curvy body pressed to mine._ **

**_I nodded, biting my lip to hold back the whine threatening to escape me._ **

**_The figure laughed again, a sound that at once drew me in and repelled me, like a sugar-coated blade, and I could feel the shiver run through my body, unbidden. “Just say yes, darling, and I will help you to make sure Aithlin is avenged.”_ **

**_“Yes.” My answer was closer to a moan than anything else, but it didn’t matter, because then there were smooth lips pressed to mine, and a strong, soft body laying me down, making me go absolutely pliant under her._ **

**_Never in my life had I wanted a woman, but that, with her? Fucking hells, it was good. I still couldn’t see her face as she rode me, and her hands were in my hair, on my body, and mine ran over the expanse of flesh, the structure of it entirely alien to me, all soft curves and round breasts, hips so different from anything I had seen, had touched._ **

**_I heard myself whispering: “Yes… yes, yes, yes,” as I felt myself getting close, the fantasy and the idea of getting the revenge I so badly needed overwhelming me._ **

**_“You’ll kill him, and he will die screaming,” she leaned down and whispered in my ear, and that’s all it took to push me over the edge._ **

I woke suddenly, the aftershocks of my orgasm still shaking through me. I found myself thinking that it was a wonder I’d managed to stay in the tree. “Angels, that was weird.” I muttered to myself, grimacing at the feeling of my now sticky, though sated, body. 

It was still the middle of the night; there wasn’t even a hint of the coming morning lightening the sky on the Eastern horizon, and I was thankful for that. The dream had left me wrung out and confused, not to mention inconveniently sticky. I quickly cleaned myself up as much as I could, resolving to find a proper bath house once I arrived in the city. When I was as clean as I was going to get, I nestled back down in the crook of the tree, wrapping my cloak around me to keep warm, and when I fell asleep, I dreamed of Aithlin. 

When I awoke the next morning, the strangeness of the dream still hadn’t left me. It wasn’t so much that I had had sex with a nightmarish shadow being in my dreams and liked it; it had been over two years since anyone had touched me like that, and there was little to no privacy with the goblins; it made sense that I would have dreams, and that my body would react like it did. No, the part that I couldn’t wrap my mind around was that the shadow being had been decidedly female. Never in my life had I been attracted to a woman, let alone had sex with one… or anyone but Aithlin, actually. I wondered if it was actually like that. I wouldn’t exactly know, though. The closest I’d ever been to a woman my own age was at all of the horrible events to try and find me a wife. Perhaps it had more to do with the cloying, simpering women I had actually met than women themselves. Perhaps I was too in love with Aithlin from the time we were children to notice, but maybe… 

I smiled bitterly to myself; perhaps if my Aithlin and I had never met, I could have met a nice girl and been perfectly happy. Perhaps it wasn’t women at all. Maybe it was just him. 

It probably should have taken me longer than it did to wrap my head around the issue of my sexuality, but I was 18 years old, and the idea of even more potential for sex excited the purely physical drives I had, even as the emotional voice in my head screamed to me that having anyone else was a pure betrayal of Aithlin. 

I was still working out what to do with this newfound information when I arrived in Jauda, and made my way to an affordable-looking tavern. The Siren’s Glory was functional, if a bit of a dive bar. I paid two silver for a room for the night, and sat down at the bar. 

“What can I get yeh?” The barkeep was a middle-aged human man, a bit red in the face and gruff, but seemed to be friendly enough. 

“I… uh…” My voice was a bit rough from disuse, and I cleared my throat. “Yeah, uh, what do you have that’s strong and cheap?” 

The barkeep looked unimpressed, but his eyes softened as he gave me a second glance. “Bit young to be drinkin’ to forget, ain’t yeh?”

I smiled sardonically up at him. “Maybe so, but we all gotta get by somehow, don’t we?” 

“Ahright, fair enough.” He came back with a half bottle of what I imagine was an approximation of whiskey and a glass. “It’ll be six silver for the bottle. Take it easy, though, lad. I ain’t here to scrape yer unconscious carcass off my bar.”

I nodded at him with just a hint of a smile. “Noted. Thank you.” I paid him a gold, and knocked back the first glass in one go, wincing at the taste. I’d not been much of a drinker before I left the estate, but what I had tasted had been nice. This was decidedly not nice, and tasted a bit like the tinctures I’d been given to keep the infection away when I was healing from the bear. I shrugged internally, and poured myself another glass. 

Before that evening, I’d never been drunk. I decided I liked it; everything felt nice and floaty and after I’d been at it long enough to be wobbly on my feet and slurring a little, a woman approached me. She was a human, and looked a bit older than me, maybe in her early to mid twenties, and her face was all painted with makeup. 

“And what’s your name, handsome?” she asked, sidling up next to me and leaning on the bar. Her breasts were almost completely exposed, and I was too drunk to have the tact not to stare as she rested them on her arms, pushing them up further.

“I.. uh, Eldrin. What’s yours?”

The girl laughed. “Oh, it’s anything you want it to be for ten gold. See something you like?”

It took me a second, but it finally clicked into place that this woman was a prostitute, and she wanted me to pay to have sex with her. “Oh.. I.. um… I’m sorry, I…” I was reduced to a stuttering mess, and I’m sure I was bright red. “I don’t… I’ve…”

She lightly trailed a hand over my inner thigh, and I shuddered a little. Maybe it was the liquor, but everything was so intense. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you, baby.” She smiled sweetly at me, and I was confused, but her hand felt good, and…

“Ten gold, you said?” I mumbled, and she nodded. I silently dug the coins out of my purse and dropped them into her palm. 

She smiled at me and took my hand, leading me upstairs. Perhaps she saw the nervous look on my face, but she seemed softer as the door shut behind her. “What’s the matter, sugar? Never done this before?”

I could feel myself blushing, squirming under her discerning gaze. “Uh.. no. N...not with a woman.”

Her mouth fell open, and it seemed like she might have been blushing under all of the makeup. “Oh, I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. I could, um.. Get one of the boys for you, if you’d like?”

I shook my head, unable to look away from her. “No. I’m right where I want to be, I think.” The alcohol was making me bold, and I could see her eyes darken, even in my intoxicated state. 

A smirk crept slowly across her face. “So glad to be your first, then.” And with that, she pushed into my space, her mouth making its way down my neck. This was soft, her lips softer than Aithlin’s had ever been, and not kissing me, backing away when I tried. “Sorry, darlin’. No kissing. One of my few rules.” 

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” This was different. This wasn’t about intimacy, this was about sex. I was a little confused by it, having never tried to separate the two before, but my body didn’t seem to mind, squirming and hardening under her expert hands as she made quick work of my cloak and my belt. 

The woman quickly divested me of my clothing, and, pushing me back on the bed, continued with her own. She was on top of me in an instant, and as her nails ran down my chest, I shivered, a quiet moan escaping me. 

Her hands stilled for a moment, and she was looking at me curiously, squinting at me in the low light. I followed her gaze and realized that she had trailed her fingertips over my scars, raised and jagged. “What…?”

I just shook my head, and she shrugged, continuing her path down my body with her hands and mouth. When she swallowed my cock, it was almost unexpected, and good, very, very good. It was also familiar, unlike the curves and the softness and the impersonal distance of it all. That, at least, I knew. 

The alcohol clouding my mind was making everything even more intense, and I gently tangled my fingers in her hair, not pulling, just holding on, willing my hips to keep still. It was an embarrassingly short time before I was pulling her back, stuttering out something about being too close. 

She only answered with a wicked smirk, crawling back up my body to tease and torture me a bit more, her tongue suddenly flicking over my nipple, making me arch up into her involuntarily. “My, you are responsive, aren’t you? You really have no idea what you’re doing.” She sounded fascinated. 

I huffed out a quiet approximation of a laugh. “No, I really, really don’t.”

She smiled again, and this time it was a bit gentler. “Well, I’m about to change your life then.” She was in my lap, grinding against my hard cock. 

“Oh fuck…” She was hot and wet and sliding against my body and my hands instinctively went to her hips and… Angels… She lined herself up and sank down on my cock, and it was this perfect hotwettight and she was moving and it was all I could do to try and keep up. 

I’m reasonably certain that I thoroughly disappointed a woman that night, but after the fact, as she started to clean herself up and dress again, she smiled at me. “Not too bad for your first time.”

“Thanks?” I was beginning to sober up by that point, and while my wits were coming back to me, I was sleepy and sated, ready to sleep off the evening. “What was your name though?”

She finished adjusting one of her stockings. “Elsie, if you care to ask for me again.” She smiled. “Who knows? A bit more practice, and you might even get good at it.” She turned to me, her tongue peeking out from between her teeth, teasing. 

I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Elsie. I hope I haven’t been too inadequate.” 

She just laughed as she fixed her hair in the mirror, and turned to go. “Don’t you worry, sweetness. I’ve had people do far worse and think they were doing much better.” And with that, the door shut behind her, and I was left mostly naked and alone in the bed, where I quickly fell asleep. 

I woke with a start and a headache; it was still dark out, and someone was rifling through my things. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing?” 

The unfamiliar woman spun around quickly, and I was up in an instant, startled but ready for a fight. I had been half-expecting it to be Elsie, back for something she might have forgotten, but the halfling woman with the sunken eyes and rotting teeth was someone I’d never seen before. 

“Wha's it look like, love?”

I had never been robbed before, and I was halfway to my first hangover and not in the mood. “Look, you have about three seconds before this becomes a problem. Get the fuck out of here.” 

She grinned, revealing that she was missing more teeth than I had originally thought. “Nah, I don’t fink I will. Not like you can do anthin' about it.”

My belt was on the bedside table, and, in the absence of my crossbow, which was over by her, I grabbed a dagger. I was still in just my smallclothes, bare chested and burning with rage at this stranger who presumed to know me. All of a sudden, I wanted to kill her. The light of the hooded lantern fell over me, and I could see my shadow, long and dark, beside me. “Are you sure you want to bet your life on that?”

Again, that disgusting smile, as she pulled out a dagger of her own. “Maybe I am.” She started advancing towards me, but then she stopped dead. I felt strange for a moment, adrenaline buzzing through my body, and when I followed her gaze, I saw my shadow had moved of its own accord, suddenly on the opposite side of the room, flanking her with me. A glance in the mirror above revealed that my eyes had turned pure black. 

“Absolutely sure?” I took a step towards her, making unblinking eye contact, loving the look of absolute terror falling over her features as I bared my teeth in her direction. 

She scrambled backwards. “I… I’m sorry, I din know, I swear, don’ kill me, I won’ do it again!” 

I smiled at her, knowing that the solid black eyes would make it even more unsettling. “You’d better keep that promise, because next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”

She was scrambling back for the door, muttering under her breath. “Thank you… Angels, protec’ me from demons, I’ll change, don’ wanna die from demons…”

I locked the door behind her, growling low in my throat. My shadow seemed to be regarding me from across the room, not quite solid, but yet not quite shadow anymore either. The blind rage slowly started to bleed out of me, replaced by a sickening fear; what was this? How did this happen? Was I still drunk? Did being drunk make you see things like that?

“Go away.” I said out loud. There I was, talking to my shadow, as if I needed another reason to think myself crazy. 

To my surprise, my shadow seemed to listen, coming back to its normal place on the floor behind me. Looking up at the mirror, I saw that my eyes were back to their normal, familiar shade of blue. This was a dream. My shadow couldn’t… could it? How… it didn’t really matter. It was a dream, for sure. The liquor and the unfamiliar place and the anxiety left over from sleeping with Elsie. It was manifesting itself in bizarre ways. I climbed back into bed, trying to convince myself that the whole thing was just a ridiculously vivid lucid dream. I’m not sure I really believed myself, even then. 

**_The pale moonlight reflected in the lake, even as the thick fog began to roll in. It was calm, utterly silent aside from the waves lapping on the shore, sometimes licking over my feet as I sat naked at the water’s edge._ **

**_I knew that I should feel exposed, look for my clothes, but it was for some reason the last thing I wanted to do. The sense of calm remained as I felt cool fingers card through my hair, and trail down my smooth, unmarked chest. I leaned back into the touch, feeling the solid presence behind me._ **

**_“Did you like my gift to you?” the silky voice whispered in my ear._ **

**_“Mmmm.” I hummed, nodding. The shadowy hands were tracing the planes of my body, fingers trailing lightly up my throat, faint wisps of shadow following in their wake._ **

**_“Did it feel good, knowing how easily you could have snapped her like a twig, and that you could have walked away, slept well at night, knowing that you can kill anyone who crosses you?”_ **

**_“It… fuck, it did. It really, really did.” I was shivering, feeling hot all over, even in the cool night air._ **

**_“Good. Such a good boy.”_ **

**_I shuddered at the praise, and there was a moment of silence before I spoke. “Are you a demon?”_ **

**_The figure tensed, fingers tightening in my hair, so I continued. “I know you’re real, and that you said you would make me more powerful, more dangerous. And it seems you did. What did you take in return?”_ **

**_The figure slowly relaxed, resuming her soothing strokes. “Nothing that you didn’t give willingly.”_ **

**_I waited in silence, hoping she would say more. It took a few moments, but she finally sighed. “You agreed to give me anything. I took the standard fee.”_ **

**_“You took my soul?” I was still calm, and she didn’t cease her gentle petting._ **

**_“I did. Or I will, when I need it.” As soon as she confirmed it, I knew I should panic, but all I felt was a mild sense of acceptance. I was doing what I needed to do to avenge Aithlin. Soon, my father couldn’t possibly stand a chance._ **

**_“That’s right, pretty. Anything, anyone you want, all will be yours, all you dream of, the blood and the fire of revenge, they aren’t far from your grasp.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just hate when you sell your soul to a demon without meaning to and they give you mysterious shadow powers in return?


	4. Xavien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eldrin makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is basically just smut, so be warned.

I woke up covered in my own semen and rather hung over. The hangover part made sense to me. The wet dreams were beginning to make less. I had literally had sex right before I went to bed. 

Annoyed, I peeled myself out of my sticky smallclothes, cleaning off and resolving to find a bathhouse that day, as well as beginning my search for the guild.

The barkeep was sympathetically amused when he saw the state of me, placing a breakfast in front of me in spite of my repeated declarations that I didn’t want it, insisting that it came with the room. I felt better after eating, and thanked him, tipping him a gold and asking for directions to the nearest bathhouse.

I didn’t know what I had been expecting of a public bathhouse in a big city, but it wasn’t what I got. The half-elven girl at the front desk informed me that it would be three silver to use the public bath, and one more to get my clothes washed. I gave her a gold, winking as I noticed her blush and look me over. “Keep the change, darling,” I said, with far more confidence than I really felt. 

She started tripping over her tongue. “Th-Thank you sir, you’re too kind.... You really don’t have to…” 

I grinned at her, trying the cocky playboy act on for size; new city, after all. I might as well become someone new. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful.”

The girl, whose name, as I later discovered, was Isariel, handed me a towel and some soap, and led me to the main room, curtsying quickly before she ran off again, flushed and giggling. 

The large, communal bathing hall had benches against all the walls, and a huge, steaming pool of water in the center. In it were people of all races, genders, and body types, some actively cleaning themselves as quickly as possible, some taking their time, relaxing, and more than a few lounging casually, surveying the other patrons with mild interest. I also noticed that there was a good deal of heavy petting going on in some corners of the space, the water and steam doing little to hide what was happening. I tried to shake off the blush I could feel coming on, and will away the erection that I knew it would be deeply inappropriate for me to have. 

I surveyed the scene for a moment, and then began to shed my clothes, carefully folding them and placing them to the side on one of the benches. I could feel a few sets of eyes on me, and tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. I wasn’t ashamed of my body, per se, but the jagged, angry scars across my chest were far more out of place amongst humanoids than they were with the goblins. 

Turning, I made my way to the bath. The water was hot, and it was a balm to my muscles, knotted and sore as they were both from travel and from the previous night’s adventures. I began to clean myself, resolving to relax some after I was done. I truly was filthy, and I found myself wondering whether I should have tipped Elsie substantially for coming within ten feet of me the night before.

As I began to rinse the soap off of my body, shaking the water from my shoulder-length hair and wiping it from my eyes, I considered myself for a moment. Perhaps it was time to cut my hair. I hadn’t, when I was with the goblins; they valued their hair, and wore it, regardless of gender, in intricate braids, often spending social times braiding each other’s hair. When I’d left them, I had taken out my braids, as sad as it had made me; it wasn’t something that humanoids tended to do, or at least not non-noble elves and humans. 

I ran my fingers through my hair, combing absently through the tangles, and wondering where normal people would do such things. I wondered when I had stopped thinking of myself as a normal person. 

It was around then that I noticed a striking tiefling man, dark blueish-green with wavy black hair, silver eyes, curled ram’s horns, and noticeably toned muscles. He was lounging against the edge of the bath, the very picture of a man who hadn’t a care in the world, if one only looked at his posture. His eyes, however, gave him away as he regarded me with a keen, hungry look, his gaze raking over my form, pausing on the scars, and then continuing down. 

Almost without meaning to, I caught his eye, and he smiled, beginning to move towards me, his expression sliding into an easy smirk as he settled onto the submerged bench beside me. “Here I was thinking I’d met every pretty boy in this place. Who are you, gorgeous, and where did you come from?” he purred. His accent wasn’t one I was familiar with, caressing the words before releasing them in an easy lilt. 

My mind raced, sudden panic flooding my senses. Surely they wouldn’t still be looking for me, not after all this time. And I looked pretty different than any likeness that could have been made of me from that time. But Jauda was a big city, and who knew what the bounty on me could have been? I couldn’t give him my real name. I quickly affixed a similar smirk on my face and answered before it looked like I had been thinking, hoping my suggestive tone was enough to distract him from any indication that I was lying. “Aithlin.” I responded, calm, convincing, pushing away the immediate deluge of thoughts regarding just how inappropriate using that particular name was. “And I’m from all over. You wouldn’t believe the places I’ve been. Never met anyone quite like you, though. What’s your name?” 

“Xavien.” His reply was still something close to a purr, seeming to come from deep in his chest, and I found myself staring more than would be strictly acceptable in any other situation, and maybe even in that one; I wasn’t exactly familiar with the etiquette of flirting with strangers in a bath house. “And what do you think, now that you have?” He bit his lip, teasing. He seemed a little older than me, perhaps in his early twenties, with broad shoulders and a few inches on me, at least in height, now that he was sitting next to me. He was breathtakingly attractive, and he was looking at me like I was the only person in the room, his eyes dark. 

I didn’t answer, just leaned in slowly, making my intentions crystal clear and giving him a chance to push me away if I had completely misread the situation, hoping that I wasn’t about to get punched in the face.

His lips on mine were a little rough, and warmer than I had expected. I immediately became painfully aware that he was an exceptionally good kisser, and that technically, I’d only kissed one other person. He didn’t seem put off in the least, his tongue quickly begging entrance to my mouth as he pulled me a little closer, now chest to chest, his hand in my hair. His skin was pressed hot against mine, warmer than the steaming bath water, and I muffled a quiet whimper against his lips. That only seemed to encourage him, and I felt something trail up my thigh, wrapping firmly around it; I was startled for a moment until I realized that it was his tail. 

We broke apart, both a little breathless, and more than a little aroused, if his cock was anything to go by. He gently stroked through my hair, his eyes half-lidded and giving another appreciative, pointed look over my body. “You...want to continue this elsewhere?” 

I looked around; most of the other patrons were paying us no mind, a few looked mildly irritated at our antics, and a couple were looking lasciviously at us, one man noticeably aroused and watching intently. “Probably a good idea.” 

He grinned at me, suddenly a little less seductive and looking just slightly less intimidating. “Let’s go.” 

It was a short enough walk back to the inn where I was staying, and it felt even shorter with how uncomplicated it was, laughing and pushing each other playfully along the way, twice ducking into dark alleys to make out and grope one another. He somehow looked just as unfairly good in clothes as he did out of them, and when he took my hand, dragging me along, my heart skipped a little in my chest. This kind of easy touch, effortless intimate closeness, was not something that I had had since Aithlin, hadn’t really ever initiated, even with him, and this stranger was able to do it like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

Maybe it was. Maybe I was overthinking it, making something of a casual bit of fun. 

Xavien seemed familiar with the Siren’s Glory, and my heart was in my throat as I pulled him towards my rented room. 

“So, pretty,” he whispered, backing me against the door, his almost predatory smile revealing his pointed canines, “just what would you like me to do with you?” 

I shivered as my shoulder blades hit solid wood, Xavien still advancing, bracketing me between his arms. I tried to think of a witty, sexy answer, but the heat radiating off of his body was more distracting the closer he got, and my traitorous voice came out unsteady, the very force of the man’s presence shaking me. “I- I don’t know.” 

His gaze softened, undoubtedly noticing the tremble in my voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” The way he bit his lip after he said it made me wonder what else he had planned, but his lips were on mine again, and it was a softer, more reassuring kiss than before. I responded in kind, pushing off of the door to press closer to him. 

Things grew heated quickly, though, his hands deftly sliding under my clothes, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and I found one of my hands tangled in his short hair, pulling just a little, and pushing myself more tightly against him with every breathy little moan it pulled out of him. 

He stripped me out of my shirt, tossing it carelessly aside and moving on to the ties of my pants. His shirt took me a bit longer; buttons really are a curse, but getting it stuck on his horns seemed like an embarrassing risk to take. 

By the time I had pushed his open shirt off his shoulders, he had me halfway out of my pants and was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, maintaining eye contact as he began to stroke me slowly. “By the Angels…” he breathed, “You should be proud of yourself, Master Elf.” 

It didn’t take long for us to both be entirely divested of our clothing, and the smooth slide of skin on skin and charged touches left me breathless more quickly than I had expected. His cock brushed against mine, and we were rutting together on instinct. 

He dragged me towards the bed, pushing me back onto it and then advancing towards me, a dark, predatory glint in his eye as he pinned my wrists and sucked dark marks on my skin. I had always been the one to take the lead with Aithlin, but I found myself more than willing to submit at that moment, especially as Xavien ran his forked tongue over one of my scars, drawing a surprised gasp from me. 

Sex with Xavien was closer to what I knew, with the exception of it being my first time being the bottom. I whispered as much against his shoulder, my abrupt honesty startling me, but his smile was gentle; he kissed me on the forehead, lingering for just a moment, and the gesture was so unexpected and familiar that for an instant it made me want to cry. “Don’t worry. I happen to be very good at this. I’ll make sure you enjoy it.” He smirked playfully, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made me believe him. 

“Quite the ego you have there. Hope you have the skills to back it up.” He grinned at the challenge, the determined set of his jaw my only warning before he set to work. 

To his credit, he _was_ very good at it, at all of it, and had me reduced to a whimpering, begging mess before he was even in me. And when he was… Angels, I had never felt anything like it, and I never wanted it to stop. It was the perfect balance of too much and not quite enough, and I was so close without any hope of actually being able to come. 

I could tell he was getting close; his movements were growing less coordinated, his breathing harsher, his tail whipping back and forth wildly. I wanted to tease him, to say something to push him further, make him lose it, but I was already beyond words when he slipped a hand between us to inelegantly stroke my aching cock. 

“You… you close for me, sweetheart?”

I could only nod, biting my lip to try and keep quiet, rutting desperately up into his hand, the slide and heat and so fucking good of it, coupled with him fucking me frantically was almost enough, but something held me back. I wanted to come so badly, but I couldn’t and I was so desperate for it that it made me want to cry. 

Xavien leaned down, running his forked tongue over the apparently very sensitive pointed tip of my ear before whispering: “Then be a good boy and come for me”. 

His permission was apparently all I needed; I was suddenly coming so hard that everything went white, feeling almost as if I was floating; I was only vaguely aware as he spilled inside me, and I heard the words tumbling from his mouth as if underwater. “Angels… so good for me, fuck, Aithlin.” 

It took less than a second for me to completely snap out of it, freezing in place and suddenly feeling sick, all traces of the previous euphoria gone. 

“Hey. Hey!” Xavien pulled out, staring at me, concern written all over his face. “Aithlin? What happened? What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Are you alright?” 

“Don’t… don’t call me that name.”

“Wh.. Aithlin? But you said…Okay, but… What just happened?”

He looked sincerely confused and worried. I had never felt so guilty in my life. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and willing myself to not be sick. “It’s not my name. I’m not Aithlin, Aithlin is―he’s not me.”

“Okay.” 

I opened my eyes, chancing a glance up at him. He didn’t seem upset, but did still look very worried. “You… don’t look angry.”

“I’m not,” he replied gently, “but I would like to know what’s going on. And why you gave me a fake name. And why you’re so upset.”

I looked up at him in surprise, and he reached out a hand, wiping away one of the tears that had evidently begun to fall, unbidden.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart, but maybe I can help.”

I felt small, and vulnerable, and guilty, and suddenly wanted to tell this stranger everything. “I’m Eldrin. My name is Eldrin,” I whispered, and then really started to cry in earnest; I was alone, really alone, and…

He gently pulled me closer and kissed me on the forehead again, settling my body against his and wrapping me securely in his arms. “Alright Eldrin,” he said, his voice low and soothing, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

I knew that it was a stranger I was talking to, but something about Xavien made me want to trust him. “I don’t know you,” I mumbled. “What if I shouldn’t trust you?” I realized belatedly that my statement might offend him. 

To my great relief, however, he only looked at me with mild amusement. “I think the point of not being able to trust me passed an hour or two ago, sweetheart. There isn’t really much that’s more vulnerable than having sex with a stranger. Once you’re alone with someone, anything can happen. If it makes you feel better, though, I’m sure you’re more than able to take me in a fight, if your scars are anything to go by.” 

His words didn’t really answer my question, but I could feel myself relaxing against him anyway, the submissive headspace from before trying to creep back in, making me a bit more pliant than was probably a good idea. I buried my face against his chest, the heat of him comforting, and an excellent way to avoid having to make eye contact. “Okay,” I said with a sigh, “what would you like to know?”

“More with each passing minute,” he murmured, his thumb stroking lightly over my temple from its position cupping my face. “But I suppose let’s start with who you are, and what just happened.” 

And so I told him: I told him of where I came from, who I was, and who I should have been. I told him about Aithlin, and what had happened, and how I had run. I told him about the bear, and the goblins, feeling his fingers trace over my scars, pausing and then stroking them almost reverently as I told him just where they had come from. 

“But Eldrin,” he said quietly, “why did you come here? You could have run anywhere. Why here?” 

I didn’t meet his eyes. I wanted to trust him, really I did, but if I had misjudged, I would be thrown in jail, or worse. _I’ve come this far, may as well,_ I thought. “I need to kill him,” I whispered. “I need to kill my father, and I need to not get caught, and I heard that there are people here who can help me learn how to do that. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to find them, or if they’ll kill me on the spot if I do, but… I can’t let him get away with it, I can’t. I don’t care what it takes, I won’t let him…” I trailed off. I didn’t know exactly what it was that I was trying to stop him doing, but I had to stop it. For the first time since I had started speaking, I met Xavien’s eyes, terrified of what I would find.

I was prepared for him to want to kill me, prepared for him to leave, prepared for him to try and have me arrested. Any of those responses would have made sense to me. What I wasn’t ready for, however, was for him to be looking at me with understanding and curiosity. He regarded me with an uncomfortable intensity for a moment before he responded.

“You’re looking for the Midnight Lotus?” he asked.

I looked at him, wide-eyed and worried. “I didn’t know it was called that, but yes, but please don’t turn me in. I haven’t done anyt…”

“Shhh.” he soothed, cutting me off before I could finish. “Darling, far be it from me to judge you for anything you’ve said, especially that. Are you sure that that is what you want?” 

I nodded emphatically. “I need to do it. I don’t care what it takes, I have to do it.”

His tail was flicking back and forth again, almost reminiscent of a nervous cat. “Can you keep a secret, Eldrin?” he whispered. 

I nodded. Bizarrely, I felt as if I could trust him with almost anything, and I wanted him to trust me, too. I liked him. I really liked him. 

Before I could get pulled into that particular riptide of a thought, Xavien spoke again. “Are you really, really sure that you can keep a secret?” 

I looked at him curiously. “Yes.”

He pulled away from me slightly, twisting his body so that his back was to me. I was confused, and mildly distracted by his well-defined musculature before he gestured to a mark on his left shoulder that I hadn’t noticed before, barely visible against his dark skin. I ran my fingers over it; it was a slightly different texture than the rest of his smooth skin, and I realized with a start that not only was it a brand, it was a brand in the shape of a lotus. 

“Oh…” I breathed. I was suddenly hyper aware of the position I was in: naked and vulnerable with a man who was clearly very dangerous, and probably capable of killing me ten times over before I could even blink. A man who was looking at me very intently. 

“So, as you might imagine, me telling you this could potentially put me in a very compromising position. But I have a very good sense of people, and that’s part of why I think I was attracted to you in the first place.” His mouth set into a hard line for a moment, the intensity of his gaze making me squirm. “However, this gives you only two options. Now that you know who I am, and that I’m a part of the guild, you must either join, or I have to kill you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, waiting for the easy smile, some hint that he was kidding, but it didn’t come. I was a little scared, and extremely aware of the fact that we were both still naked, how vulnerable I was, and how difficult it would be to get out of the situation if I wanted to. I didn’t want to, though, and that excited me almost as much as it scared me. 

Xavien looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before conversationally continuing. “I suppose you could also attempt to kill me, but I don’t think you would get very far, seeing as I know about ten ways to kill you without ever touching a weapon.” He smiled, more a baring of his teeth than anything else, his fangs glinting a little in the low light.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” I said, going for haughty, but falling far short as my voice shook. “I told you I was sure. I meant it.”

He dropped the posture, his shoulders relaxing and his smile turning sincere. “Good,” he said, falling back onto the bed, flat on his back, one arm still wrapped around me. “I really didn’t want to have to kill you. I quite like you, Eldrin.”

I made a noise of agreement, letting the tension bleed out of me a little and releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, relaxing against his chest, counting his heartbeats. We laid in companionable silence for a while, his fingers still ghosting over my back. After a bit, I remembered something, and looked up at him. 

“You said that I could take you in a fight, earlier.”

Xavien just laughed, hooking his leg around mine, flipping me flat on my back before I even had time to react, and leaning down to kiss me soundly, his tail lashing with excitement behind him. “Yes, well… I’m sorry to deceive you,” he grinned, “but if it helps, I’m a much better lover than a fighter.” 

He winked at me, and I knew a challenge when I saw one, using a hold that Eslem had taught me in my youth to flip and pin him under me, keeping his wrists down with one hand. I was struck by the sudden memory of having had Aithlin in the same position once, but the sound of Xavien’s laughter brought me back to reality. 

“Very good, Master Elf. There may be some hope for you after all. I can’t wait to spar with you.” His voice went low as he said it, leaving very little doubt as to how such sparring would end. 

“Ah, so you think me worthy of your organization?” I asked, teasing.

He surged up, somehow using my hold on him as momentum as he pushed me straight back, one hand in my hair dragging my head back, a blade that I hadn’t even seen him reach for at my throat. “I don’t know,” he whispered, his tongue teasing over the tip of my ear, “are you?” He smirked again. “You’ll have to be careful with this,” he said conversationally, tugging on my hair and pulling my head forward so that the blade pressed into my flesh, “could give enemies a hand hold to take advantage of.”

A combination of terror and intense arousal shot through me, and I whimpered, quietly, but unmistakably. I tipped my head back as much as I was able, exposing more of my throat to his blade, cool and sharp against my skin, hearing his small intake of breath at my reaction. 

“Just when I think I’ve got a read on you, you go and do things like that…” he murmured, but nonetheless kept the blade where it was. “Yes, I think you’ll do quite well, if your skillset is up to it.” 

I wanted to answer, but I could feel the cold metal biting into my flesh, the pressure a hair’s breadth shy of breaking skin, and it was all I could do to keep my breathing under control, feeling myself rapidly hardening against his hip. 

It was a slow, filthy grind at that point, his hand never shaking, his composure never faltering as he leaned down to kiss me, keeping the knife at my throat. “You really are something, aren’t you, pretty?”

It took effort to even string the words together, but I tried for cocky anyway. “Are- are you going to take me to the Midnight Lotus, or not?” I barely managed the sentence before he put a little more weight on me and all of my brain power went to keeping still to prevent my throat from accidentally being slit. 

“Oh, I am. But first, you’re going to be a good boy for me, and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.” The knife fell to the floor, tossed carelessly aside, and he was back on me, rough and dirty and desperate and perfect. I got the distinct impression that this wouldn’t be the last time something like this happened with Xavien, and I found that I didn’t mind that thought one bit. 

We laid together a while later, my back to his chest, his fingers playing over my scars, still seemingly fascinated by them, consciously or not. It struck me that I hadn’t been held like that since... well, ever, in my adult life, and I wanted to trust him. I wanted to trust him, and know about him, and I wanted to keep that feeling, of good and warm and safe. I had thought that being with someone else would feel like betraying Aithlin, but somehow, it didn’t. It wasn’t about him, not that, not then, not with Xavien. I wanted… well, I don’t know what I wanted, but I WANTED, and I wanted to want, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

“Stop thinking so much,” he mumbled sleepily, “I can hear it from here.”

I smiled quietly to myself. “Sorry.”

“Copper for your thoughts?” he asked, hooking his chin over my shoulder. 

“Didn’t peg you for a cuddler, is all.”

“Mhmm. It’s cute when you lie.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You really must get better at it, or you’re going to get killed.” His tone was light, but I knew that he wasn’t kidding. 

“Maybe so.” I sighed. “I was just thinking that I… like you?”

He laughed, really laughed. “I enjoy how that’s a question.”

“Shut up. I guess I just… I don’t know where to go from there? Would you, I don’t know, want to… I don’t know, what is it that people do?”

He was silent for a moment, and then muffled a chuckle against my neck. “Oh, you beautiful, clueless thing. Why don’t we start with me buying you dinner?”

That evening, when Xavien told me that it was time, I had no idea what to expect. I tried not to have expectations, in fact, but was still caught off guard when he pulled me into what appeared to be a flower shop, with a middle-aged halfling proprietor who turned to us as the chime above the door jingled. “I’m just closing up fo… Oh! Xavien, dear, I wasn’t expecting you! Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks! And you know that you can use the back door!” Her words were so rapid-fire that I could scarcely keep up, each sentence following the previous without even a breath in between. 

To my surprise, Xavien looked almost shamefaced, as a child being scolded, though he stood a full three feet taller than the woman, at least. “Yes, Fara, I’m sorry. Work, you know. I wanted you to meet a new friend. Fara, this is Eldrin, Eldrin, Fara”

The halfling, Fara, apparently, looked around Xavien, evidently noticing me for the first time. “Hello, dear.” She turned back to him. “Business or pleasure?” she asked, not bothering to be subtle about it at all as she jerked her head in my direction. 

Xavien smiled. “Bit of both, if I’m honest. He’s hopefully here to be initiated, though. Angels willing, the masters will be fair; you know how they can get.” 

They both rolled their eyes. “Yes I do. Tell them if they get blood on my damn floors again dragging a body out, it’ll be the three of them cleaning it up with their tongues.” Xavien laughed, and she addressed me once more. “Well, dear. If you come out alive, feel free to come to me if you need anything. I own this establishment, and you’re more than welcome any time. You two go on down, I have to finish closing up the shop.” 

“That wasn’t at all ominous…” I mumbled under my breath, following Xavien through a door behind the counter. 

He shrugged. “It’s pretty rare that people come looking for us, at least people who are looking to join. I’m more of a ‘people person’ than most of the others.” 

I wanted to make some sarcastic comment about how I couldn’t imagine why people weren’t flocking to them, but felt it might be best to hold my tongue. I followed him down a flight of stairs to a landing with two doors. I could see that one was to the outside, and the other to some dark room. 

“Stay right here,” Xavien said. Instead of opening either, he turned to the blank wall and walked straight through it. 

I stared in shock at the place he had just been, and then at the wall. “What the fuck…” I mumbled to myself. A minute passed, and then two, and then five. This was the part where something bad happened and I got killed or maimed or something else horrible, I could just tell. 

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Xavien stepped back out of the wall. “Hey. They’re ready for you.” 

“I..” I cut myself off, not even sure what I wanted to say. My hands were shaking, so I clenched them into fists. “Good. Yeah, let’s do it.”

He looked at me, and then seemed to make up his mind. “You can do this. You couldn’t have come this far if you couldn’t.” He pulled me in and kissed me, chaste and confusingly tender. 

“What-”

“Later, pretty. Right now, you have a job to do.” And with that, he took my hand and pulled me through the wall.


End file.
